The tall grass gently bows and sways with the breeze, giving the appearance of someone walking up to the bench to visit. This old bench sits in the middle of a meadow surrounded by the tender green of spring. Years have gone by since it felt the warmth of two souls...
I see you there alone warming yourself by the fire outside the city gates. I see your pain, hurt, and longing for one friend to accept you. One who will invite you inside the walls of community. Is there any hurt like rejection? Can anything compare to hearing...
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